Into Action. Dan Harvey
battery fire and counter battery fire – but also direct small arms encounters with Katangese troops and vehicles. M8 Greyhound armoured cars and ‘Willys’ jeeps, with all their combined associated armament – 37mm cannon, .3 and .5 calibre HMGs thrown in for good measure – advanced towards Point ‘E’ and with grim determination were driven off by accurate fire from A Company positions. Though hard pressed at times, the Irish kept up a sustained fire, sending rounds back in the direction of the attackers, who disengaged.
A Company were now well and truly ‘blooded’. Under attack on arrival and under constant fire since, with Corporal Fallon killed and five wounded on day one, the advance and holding of Point ‘E’ was to see Sergeant Mulcahy die of his wounds and nine other assorted casualties from a mix of mortar and small arms fire. All sustained within one week. A Company had received their baptism of fire, which was to be further forged on the crucible that Point ‘E’ was turning out to be. They were proving silently heroic and resilient in the face of fierce hostility. There are many types of courage and different degrees of bravery, all in essence derived from the overcoming of fear. You do not have to have a weapon in your hand to display it; your actions are intended to help others, not to gain personal recognition. This was seen in a number of instances where individual selfless acts, ordinary in themselves but extraordinary in the time, place and circumstances performed, inspired or at least encouraged others and in this regard were significant. The injured Private Woodcock, despite his wounds and obviously in pain, vulnerable and uncertain of his prognosis, remained calm and urged that other casualties receive medical attention before him. Private James Fallon – brother of Corporal Michael Fallon – insisted on remaining with the company in theatre despite his brother’s death on day one, when it was easily understandable that he could return to Ireland. Sergeant Paddy Mulcahy – injured once – refused to leave his platoon and returned to his duties, only to put himself at risk again looking after his men and unfortunately paid the ultimate price. Private James Murray tirelessly provided food to those in exposed positions, even after having one container blown clean out of his hands by a mortar bomb, and continued to maintain an appreciated supply of cooked meals. Medical orderly Corporal Charlie Connolly – regardless of his safety – continued to attend casualties under heavy mortar and small arms fire, bringing medical aid to the wounded, despite the danger involved.
With the UN force fighting for freedom of movement, the capacity of the Katangese to provoke was not yet exhausted and they set up a further roadblock near the large Socopetrol petrol and oil depot on Avenue Usoke in order to secure fuel supplies for themselves and cut off the Irish and Swedish camps from UN Headquarters. Commandant Pat Quinlan, his namesake Lieutenant Tom Quinlan, and elements of A Company of the Jadotville Siege fame, were once again pressed into action within days of being homeward-bound. Passing through defensive fire, the Irish penetrated close to the depot and set a number of storage tanks ablaze with offensive fire. Not satisfied that all the tanks had been destroyed, Commandant Quinlan again approached the depot, this time commando style. He and his squad infiltrated through a swamp, at times up to their waists and even necks in water, to set the remaining much-needed fuel tanks ablaze. Flames rose to an estimated 100 metres, lighting up the countryside and, because of the nightly bombing raids, causing some concern at the airport, some five miles to the northwest. However, no bombing was attempted that night and the blaze continued for four more days.
While this action hampered Katangese motor movement they still retained a bombing capacity, under the direction of mercenary pilot Jerry Puren. A South African, with Second World War bomber service with the South African Air Force, Puren later flew transport planes with the Royal Air Force and saw service during the Berlin Airlift. Recruited as a mercenary in 1961, for the next seven years he was intensely involved in mercenary operations in the Congo, initially on the ground and then an air commander. Later he was an aide to Tshombe himself. Initially paid $1,000 a month, Puren became one of the very few mercenaries who fought for the Katanga ideal, not solely for the money. Early involvements saw his planes strike against Baluba concentrations, dispersing the Jeunesse warriors along the northern borders of Katanga around Lake Upemba and Kabala. Later, Puren’s flights attacked ANC troops of the Central Congolese government crossing Katanga’s border from Leopoldville and Stanleyville. Now, having kept a few planes safe from the UN jet fighter attacks on Kolwezi airstrip by holding them in nearby but much smaller airstrips, he was both conducting and directing night attacks on the UN’s Élisabethville airport.
He flew a converted Dove aircraft, used as an eight-seater transport or for light cargo deliveries, and rigged a rack system along the interior fuselage to take 12.5 kg bombs, making a hatch in the floor and mounting a plastic bombsight on the floor. By pulling a lever, bombs were dispatched one at a time through the hatch in the floor. By such means, with two Dornier aircraft and Puren in his Dove, the Katangese responded at night to the daytime raids by the UN jets. Thankfully, for the most part, their aim was largely inaccurate, but those below were not to know that until after the fact.
Over the next two days (13–14 December) heavy mortaring continued on all Irish positions. Some of this counter battery fire was in response to Swedish mortars firing from A Company’s locale, and during one bombardment Captain Harry Agnew was injured, losing one and a half fingers to shrapnel slivers. At one stage during these heavy exchanges it was agreed with the American Embassy that mortar fire from Irish lines should stop to allow the evacuation of 500 women and children from the Athene schools.
The identification of Katangese mortar positions was vital in the ebb and flow of the ongoing exchanges, which rapidly developed into duels. After three days and nights of almost continuous exposure to heavy incoming mortar barrages, a very definite direction was given with the aim of determining exactly the location of the enemy mortars. It was imperative they were found and neutralised. This involved the mortar OP (Observation Post with the MFC) going to higher ground, but to do so necessitated crossing a road under constant bombardment and having to move the necessary radio equipment, a heavy and cumbersome C-12 Wireless set with two large 6V encased ‘wet’ batteries to power it. This required crossing the exposed road on no fewer than four occasions, all the while under fire. The observers, Paddy Guerin and the previously injured Paul Ferguson, now gave a new ‘fire mission’ order with revised directions. The first fall of shot was declared ‘near’, the second ‘on’ – remarkable accuracy from the Irish. Thereafter, the enemy mortar line was taken out by A Company counter battery fire. A great deal of damage was inflicted on the Gendarmerie, neutralising its effect. This took a lot of unwanted ‘attention’ away from the Irish positions along Liege crossroads, and secured a springboard from which to set up the advance on the Tunnel.
On one subsequent occasion, the sighting of a Gendarmerie Greyhound armoured car in a firing position behind a house in Belair – a residential area for white settlers south of Avenue de Kasenga – led to the further discovery of new mortar positions. Surrounded as they were by city residents, the Irish could not direct fire onto them and the Katangese took full advantage of any opportunity afforded in the circumstances. Any such advantage was very short-lived, however, as these exchanges were about to be rapidly overtaken by events and happenings dictated by the UN Force Commander; Operation Unokat was about to be put into effect.
Seize and Hold
It was barely a week since A Company’s arrival into Congo and the build up to Operation Unokat, but in terms of experience it had been an electric escalation. They arrived as tentative peacekeepers, immediately became tough peace-enforcers and would soon be tantamount to ‘war fighters’. This tacit transformation from timidity through tenacity to temerity had been torrid and traumatic, the journey taut and tense, brutal and bewildering. Shot at on touchdown, subjected to several attacks since and under constant mortar and sniper fire, the Irish had been heavily pounded for the last four days. Having sustained one fatality and suffered several seriously wounded, they were no longer raw recruits and were far from being ‘green’. They had gone through something monumental, a situation that had been intense, fast and fluid. Being ‘new to the fight’ there was an excitement and drama to it, but this was neither history nor Hollywood, it was all too authentic and pressurised. They were beginning to be ground down by their experiences, their tempo degraded, their energy sapped. They were already tired, but the situation demanded a step up in toughness – they had to go toe-to-toe with an ‘enemy’.
The